


Witches, Vampires, and Pixies! Oh, My!

by Annehiggins



Category: Star Trek (2009)
Genre: AU, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-05-01
Updated: 2010-05-01
Packaged: 2017-10-09 06:00:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,803
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/83786
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Annehiggins/pseuds/Annehiggins
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jim Kirk is an Inderland Federation Security agent, a witch with no real magical ability, has an impossible parental legacy to live up to, and, oh, yeah, he's the sort-of-rejected-but-not-quite almost-consort of Leonard McCoy, acting head of the McCoy Vampire Family</p>
            </blockquote>





	Witches, Vampires, and Pixies! Oh, My!

**Author's Note:**

> This AU drops our heroes into a quasi-fusion between Kim Harrison's _Rachel Morgan-Hallows_ series and AOS set in an urban fantasy present-day universe. Attributions aside, it is not necessary to have read Harrison's books to understand this. Heck, I've only read 2.5 of them so far. To be specific about what I did:
> 
> Mentally I borrowed from background aspects of Harrison's world, although almost all of it is unreferenced in the story. I used a modified version of Inderland Security and some of my own ideas on supernatural beings -- especially the Vampires, who I see as a species versus any sort of living dead.
> 
> I used none of her actual characters. Jim is not intended to be an AU version of Rachel, although he does get to live in the same old-church set-up because that is simply too cool not to use.

Damn, he hated Vampire runs. Inderland Federation Security Agent James T. Kirk scowled at the darkness outside of his car, but closest team in the vicinity was closest team in the vicinity. He tapped his Bluetooth and said, "Team 37, we've got it."

"Affirm-" the Dispatcher began, cut off for a moment, then responded, "Negative 37. Equipment not-optimal." Official-speak for 'are you out of your fucking mind?' Not to mention the understatement of the millennium.

He sighed, steering the red corvette into a tight turn, then seconds later to a skidding stop behind the Pink Parasol. And Gods damnit he was going to be so pissed off if he got killed in a place with that sort of stupid name. "So send backup, Rand. We're already here." With the next team at least fifteen minutes out – absolutely fucking forever in a situation like this.

The instant he cut the engine, the butterfly-sized light sitting on his rearview mirror zipped over to settle on his shoulder. "We armed for a Were run, not Wampire," the Pixy said what they both knew all too damned well. "This will not be easy."

Jim appreciated the gesture of loyalty, but couldn't see the sense in both of them getting killed. "Pav, you should stay here and guard the prisoner." Not that the Were in the backseat would shake off the sleeping spell for another three hours, but protocol did say the guy should be watched at all times.

Pavel Chekov snorted – something that sounded more like a squeak coming from such a small throat, but Jim had to give him an A-for-effort. "We should both stay here," he said, "but the Wampire has other ideas, so we will both go."

Jim could have taken precious moments to remind his partner that Vampires were almost immune to magic and all the Pixy dust in the world wouldn't make it do more than sneeze. But that was a hell of a lot more than a poor excuse for an Earth Magic Witch like him could do. So, no, he'd pass on that. "Right," he muttered, running for the club door.

Pavel flew close to his shoulder, but far enough away to not get caught in any spell blast hurtled Jim's way. Hey, sometimes they _did_ pay attention to standard protocol. "Do we have plan?" Pavel asked.

"I have one disrupter charm left," Jim answered. If he could manage enough magic to redirect the energy flow, the thing might have enough zing in it to stun a Vamp for a few precious seconds, then they'd have to improvise. Except the door didn't give when Jim shoved at it. Worse he could feel the push back of a lockdown spell. At least that explained why the street wasn't filled with fleeing customers. With that sort of security in place no one could get in or out. No way in hell they could get through that fast enough to save anyone who might still be alive in there. Unless he used the charm to disrupt the spell's energy.

Sighing Jim slapped it against the lock. "New plan, you make 'em sneeze, then try to break the security spell permanently."

Pavel landed on his shoulder. "And you?"

"I'll try not to get beaten to death before help arrives."

They'd done more with less, so Pavel nodded, anchoring himself by clutching the collar of Jim's shirt, then said, "Let's do this thing."

Jim tapped the charm twice, stepped back while it flashed red, then slammed his weight against the door when it went green. They went tumbling inside, a zinging sensation clipping his entire backside as the spell burned out the charm and reasserted itself. Would have dissected him if he'd moved any slower. Fucking night was just a bundle of laughs.

Now they could hear the screams, and his hand itched to reach for the splat gun holstered against the small of his back. It sounded menacing to humans who associated splat with body fluids spilling, but it got its name from the sound made when the small spell-containing pellets struck a target. Even when loaded with a death spell – and authorization for the use of those was almost unheard of – the minor impact shattered the pellet not the target's skin or hide. Like most IFS agents, Jim's weapon was loaded with sleep spells – which were fucking useless against a Vampire.

Might as well be armed with a paper weight. Hell, that might weigh more and at least given him something worth throwing. Yeah 'equipment not optimal' pretty much covered it.

"Go," Jim hissed, his way of assuring his partner he'd cleared the door with all parts intact.

Pavel took off down the corridor toward the offices, while Jim made for the club area. When he burst out into the open, he adjusted his direction a half-pace, then poured on even more speed, waiting until the last possible second before he leapt feet first at the tall figure feasting on the neck of an all too limp woman.

Momentum and surprise overcame the differences in strength sending all three of them flying. Jim tucked, rolled, then came up on his feet while the Vampire crashed into the wall. His victim landed on the floor with a thud that made Jim wince, but he could tell she was beyond caring. If the bastard had left more than a few ounces of blood in her, Jim would be surprised. "Are you fucking nuts?" he shouted, then got his answer when the Vamp recovered with depressing speed and turned to face him. Kang.

"Well, if it isn't the little consort-wannabe," Kang sneered.

"Beats disowned psychopath," he countered, which smacked a lot of 'I know you are, but what am I?' but, what the hell, it was true. Jim kicked out, catching Kang in the stomach, then ducked out of reach of the arm that tried to take his head off.

On average Vampires ran two-times stronger and faster than Witches, but Kang had a well-muscled build that pushed both factors closer to three-times faster. On the other hand, he'd also downed the equivalent of three Big Mac Value Meals. Made him sluggish enough to even the odds on speed. That and Kang's tendency to want to play with his prey kept Jim alive as he tried to stay out of arm's reach. A good trick given the need to keep the Vampire's focus on him instead of the Humans cowering among overturned tables and behind the bar.

Yeah, Humans all. Been too much to hope for that a Were or a Witch with some real power might be hanging out at a strip club in the Human section of Atlanta. Which left Jim with no civilian help and a Vampire with a personal grudge against him – well, not so much against Jim as. …

Kang went for a cheap shot along with his next swipe. "Think it'll take more than a day before McCoy replaces your sorry ass?"

And fucking hell, it worked as Jim's mind went there. An hour. Two tops. The thought made him careless, and the punch connected with Jim's right arm. Bone snapped, and white hot pain made Jim dizzy. Pure luck and stubbornness kept him on his feet enough for him to stagger back, so the follow-up blow aimed at his head clipped his shoulder instead of separating his skull from his spine.

It still sent him flying into a pile of huddled humanity. Struggling to get back up while Kang took a few moments to laugh at him, Jim glanced at the man helping him and saw salvation in the form of a horseshoe-shaped charm. Could sense it had some heavy-duty mojo behind it – guy must have laid out some serious bucks for something to give him a chance at one of the strippers. Even better it worked on probabilities, not on individuals, giving a Vampire no more immunity than anyone else to its fallout.

Palming the charm, Jim murmured a reverse incantation. His own magic a pathetic whimper in the dark, he _could_ manage a simple redirect spell when someone else had done the heavy lifting.

"Pav!" he shouted bringing the Pixy to his side in an instant.

"Spell is complicated," Pavel gasped. "Need one moment more. Maybe two."

"Fuck it," Jim hissed. "Make the bastard sneeze."

Pavel tilted his head to make certain Jim would know his tiny face had a 'you have lost your mind' look on it then he zipped upward. A glittering cloud of gold flowed from his hands down onto Kang's head. The Vampire swatted at Pavel, but the Pixy was too fast and too far above to reach.

Kang sneezed with a hard explosion of sound and shuddering muscle. Jim leapt forward, slammed his good hand into the Vampire's chest, then did the best he could to control the damage done by the arm sweeping him away. Didn't work. He hit the far wall hard, the shoulder attached to his unbroken arm dislocating in a nauseating burst of pain.

"Fucking, useless moron," Kang raged as his sneezing eased and he began to advance on Jim.

He slid down the wall, a grin on his face. "Wait for it," Jim murmured, gaze fixed on the upside-down charm he'd pressed into Kang's shirt. With a loud crack the ceiling above the Vampire gave way. Not enough weight or force to kill him, but it pinned him at the same moment the lockdown spell failed. Game over.

Pavel cheered in triumph, but Jim's grin faded as the front door burst open and two all too familiar voices shouted, "Damnit, Jim!"

All in all an excellent time to pass out.

*

A scowl on his face Leonard Horatio McCoy watched Christine Chapel shape the energy of her healing spell around Jim's injuries. Seeing the pain on Jim's face ease, Leonard lamented once again that with near immunity to magic came the inability to wield it. He could and had physically set Jim's bone and guided the shoulder back into its socket. All vital steps before Christine's spellwork, but he hated causing the pain, not the comfort. More than once it had driven him to abandon medicine, but he always came back to it. And even if now was, out of necessity, if not desire, one of those downtimes, he still couldn't permit anyone else do the preliminary work on Jim. Or allow any other Witch than Christine to do the healing. Fortunately the man in charge of this particular infirmary agreed with Leonard's demands.

Unlike Leonard, the Deep South Regional Director of Inderland Federation Security had not allowed his expression alone to convey his displeasure. Christopher Pike had started shouting the instant Jim had come around pointing out ever damned fool decision, every violation of procedure made with equal parts volume and fury. A damned impressive display, problem was –

"But no one else died," Jim said in a soft, repentant-sounding -- but not really, because this was Jim -- voice.

Three dead, not twenty. All because Jim Kirk valued his own life less than the average cockroach. And fucking hell, Leonard would have a hard time forgiving himself for this one. Should have realized the very reasons he'd withdrawn the protection of his House from his fifth cousin -- a dozen times removed -- would have sent the bastard on a killing spree. Horatio would have simply had Kang taken off somewhere and put down like the rabid animal he was, but Leonard's grandfather had decided to spend a few decades in Paris leaving his fool of a grandson in charge of the Family.

Given his own not inconsequential responsibility for the evening's events, Leonard hadn't joined Chris in the shouting, but he'd done nothing to protect Jim from it either. Neither had Christine when either of them would have had every right to order Chris to stop upsetting their patient or get out.

Jim had given them looks of outrage at their betrayal and tried to argue his defense with volume that matched his superior's, but without much success.

Still, not even Chris could keep venting forever when every instinct must be screaming to give the damned idiot a hug. The Director sighed. "Hell, Jim, do you have any idea what losing you would do to us?"

"Sorry." The unspoken 'Dad' hung out there. Chris had been lurking around the corners of Jim's life since the day he'd been born and had taken on the title of foster parent when the abusive nature of Jim's uncle had finally come to light, but Jim never called him Dad outside of 'perfect son' moments.

Chris cupped Jim's cheek in his hand and whispered, "Son." A charming moment, but nothing about it would keep Jim from doing something foolhardy the very next chance he got.

"Where is he?" A woman's voice snapped from somewhere up the hall and Jim's eyes widened. "Where is that fucking idiot?"

"You called Nyota?" Jim demanded.

Chris smirked. "I had One pick her up."

Jim's face took on an almost comical look of horror a moment before Nyota Uhura burst into the room roaring, "What the hell were you thinking?"

"Leonard, a word," Chris said, nodding toward the hallway.

He would have liked to stay while the lovely Vampire ripped Jim a new one for taking on one of their kind without her along as back-up, but yeah, it was time he and Chris talked. Leonard followed him out into the hallway then waited while Chris spoke a few words of reassurance to his wife.

One of the few surviving Human-Elvin hybrids, she had an old-fashioned Elvish name few could pronounce with any grace, so the Controller of Atlanta IFS went by the translation of Number One. And while Jim might often bemoan the fate that had made his foster parents his bosses, it took little intelligence to realize any duo with less interest in his well being would have let Jim get himself killed within a week of taking the job. "Give me a few moments, Chris, and I'll join you," she said. "I just want a word or two with our young man then I'll leave him to Nyota."

Chris nodded and the two men headed for the elevators while she entered the room. They shared a smile as Jim's wail of, "Moooom," reached them as the doors slid close. Jim might fear using the familial titles, but One had a tendency to cut right through the bullshit.

They took the elevator from the Infirmary in the basement up to Chris' office on the eighth floor. "Have a seat," he said gesturing to the sofa and chairs in a casual corner of the large room.

Leonard dropped into one of two overstuffed chairs while Chris poured three glasses of bourbon. He picked up two of them, handed one to Leonard then settled on the sofa. They drank in silence for the few minutes it took until One joined them. She collected her own drink and sat down beside her husband.

"We almost lost him tonight," she said, and he could see in their faces the same 'again' sounding in his own thoughts.

He shifted his gaze to the amber liquid in his glass never so grateful for the inaccuracy of the Human belief Vampires could not drink or eat anything beyond blood. He knew what they wanted of him. Knew if they owed him anything less than Chris' life threats and displays of weapons might become a factor. Never thought he'd end up feeling grateful to a parasitic charm, but Chris not only lived, but walked due to Leonard's skill as a surgeon. Come to think of it they were getting close to the twenty-fifth anniversary of the day the ambulance had brought a mostly dead IFS Agent Pike into Leonard's ER. A few weeks later the whims of Leonard's grandfather had forced his resignation, and all modesty aside, Leonard's replacement at the hospital had lacked the skill to save Chris. He shuddered to think what the loss of the Witch would have meant to almost every fucking part of the world Leonard gave a damn about.

For that reason he didn't play any of the power games Horatio had taught him. Instead he came straight to the point. "I know what you want me to do, but it's just not possible."

Possessing the aura of distant serenity of her Elvin half, One's emotions stayed off her face, but Chris gave him a glare. "It's been three years."

And Gods, here they went. Three years since he'd finished up a business trip in San Francisco and boarded a plane to find himself sitting next to a brand new graduate of the IFS Academy. By the time they'd landed they'd become lovers – thanks to a don't-notice charm and Jim's novel way of getting Leonard past an annoying fear of flying. "I have no wish to enthrall him."

"He's a Witch, not Human."

Leonard didn't bother to glare because that should have been the end of the argument, but as ever when Jim was involved, things got complicated. A Human bound to a Vampire lost almost all free will because of the power imbalance between the two species. A binding between Vampire and Were also had a complicated, but not insurmountable set of problems, but a Witch-Vampire union was as close to two Vampires joining as it got. That left issues of partner dynamics firmly in the 'consenting adults' category versus a genetic shove into master-slave relations. "Jim's power levels are abnormally low for a Witch. Couple that with his utter lack of self-worth and … the risk becomes too high."

One shook her head. "He's the son of two of the most powerful Witches born in the last three centuries. The power is there. It has to be."

Yes, it did. George Kirk had held an unmatched talent for ley line magic, while Winona had redefined the abilities of earth magic. Yet, toddlers showed more magical ability than Jim. Some said the shock of her husband's death not only induced premature labor, but somehow damaged Jim before he made it out of Winona's womb. And the dying-by-inches she'd done over the following ten years couldn't have helped.

Possible, but Leonard had a different theory, "Or the two types of magic cancelled out his powers and left him almost Human." A Witch used one or the other type of magic to a degree of absoluteness that made some believe there should be two separate species designations. Marriage between the two different practitioners wasn't unheard of but the magic mix caused fertility problems and a high-incidence of childhood death -- Jim had no living peers.

"Damn," Chris sighed, and Leonard felt the hope drain out of the man. A binding boosted the non-Vampire to the same potential lifespan of the Vampire. Even better, when a Witch or a Were was the other partner, it ramped up the healing ability considerably. If Jim became Leonard's consort, he'd either die instantly or last long enough to reach a hospital and almost guaranteed survival. A heady thought for anyone who loved a danger-magnet like Jim.

One gave him a look – a mixture of skepticism and speculation – and suddenly Leonard felt too exposed, a feeling that did not lessen when she said, "I'll have Spock look into it."

Spock Vulcanus spent time in the field, working with Nyota Uhura when she wasn't on runs with Jim and Chekov, but he was also considered the leading expert on cross-species partnerships. Not surprising given his own half-Elf-quarter-Human-quarter-Vampire status. Personally, Leonard found him off-putting, possessing what Leonard considered artificial levels of Elvin control despite his mixed-species status. He'd worked hard on over-coming that instinctive dislike because Jim considered Spock a friend, while Nyota's Kenyan House had entered an alliance with the McCoys giving her a favored-cousin status. She was also the closest thing to a best friend Leonard could claim. Hell, if Horatio didn't get tired of Paris soon, Leonard might even end up officiating at Nyota and Spock's wedding.

"Good idea," he said not meeting her gaze. He drained the last of his glass then stood up. "I should be going. I have Family duties to attend to." Wasn't even a lie. A barely former member of his House had gone on a rampage. He'd left Sulu with damage control long enough.

Chris and One rose, but didn't walk him to the door. Suited him fine, despite the mild slight to his position. Given how perceptive they were, they had to know he was hiding something and, given it concerned their son, he was lucky they were letting him leave.

He got one foot out the door when Chris asked, "Do you even love him?"

Leonard shuddered and whispered, "Gods, yes." Then like the coward he was, he fled.

*

Jim sat at the kitchen bar, glaring into his mug. His mother had fallen in love with the large kitchen on first sight and the old, renovated church containing it had quickly become the Kirk family home. Despite the fact that he never used more than the coffee maker and microwave, Jim loved the room, too. He had some precious memories of sitting on this same bar chair sharing coco with his mom during the few years before the Separation Sickness had confined her to her room. After that, Jim had made the coco and taken it to her. They'd sat together on her bed drinking it while she told him stories. Right up until the week she lapsed into a coma and died on Jim's tenth birthday, leaving him to the mercies of his alcoholic uncle. Both Jim and the church had been a wreck by the time Chris and One had rescued him almost six years later. They'd saved Jim's body and soul, then gotten the place restored in time to give him the key when he'd returned to Atlanta after the Academy.

A cup of coco and this chair had become his refuge ever since. Wasn't helping tonight. Been almost three weeks since his encounter with Kang and he'd not heard a single word from Bones. And if this silent treatment kept up, Jim might start admitting the nickname had far less to do with a shortening of the old surgeon moniker of 'sawbones' than a more socially acceptable version of what Jim had deep throated about an hour after they'd met. Like to see Bones playing the high-and-mighty head of McCoy House with everyone snickering about that behind his back. As opposed to all the laughing they did about the sorry excuse for a Witch he kept company with. Or used to.

He shifted his glare to his cell phone willing Bones to call and end all the suspense. "Come on, Bones," he said, "just call and tell me you've come to your senses and wish me well in my future endeavors. Or some shit like that."

A soft trill drew his attention to the Tribble sitting on the counter. "Three weeks, three meals," he told his fuzzy familiar because it was just crazy to talk to himself.

Shitfaced looked unimpressed. "My neck remains untouched." He pointed at his unmarred flesh to emphasize the point. "He's cheating on me, damnit!"

Still no reaction, because, hey, wasn't this inevitable? "Yeah, I know we aren't bound, but he promised!" And did that sound like a whine? Was he really sitting here whining to a Tribble? Because while it sucked to know his lover was getting fangy with others, whining about it to something without a face was pathetic. Even if it did sometimes purr at a sympathetic moment. Jim glared at the ball of fur. "I should have gotten a dog."

Almost as if to mock him, Shitfaced purred. Damned dust bunny.

Another sip of coco made Jim grimace. Gone all lukewarm and disgusting. He got up intending to zap it back to life and maybe add some bourbon to the mix in honor of his former lover, but Pavel fluttered into the room. The entire Chekov Clan – Pavel's parents and his 78 brothers and sisters – lived in the garden keeping Winona Kirk's legacy alive and thriving so her loving son had fresh herbs to dump into his jarred spaghetti sauce. Mom would be so proud.

Pavel landed beside him then his body heaved in a forlorn if overly-dramatic sigh.

Jim rolled his eyes, but got the message – Pavel was Sulu-sick and needed a fix. Fine. "Get your damned coat," he muttered heading for the door. The Pixy squealed zipping through a series of aerial somersaults that made Jim smile and by concentrating on his fearsome little friend's antics, he managed not to think too hard about the outcome of the evening.

It being Friday, he pulled up in front of Sanguis, then tossed the keys to the valet. In a mood he ignored all the differences between the expensive trappings and the cheap-shit decor of the Pink Parasol and dubbed the place a seedy sex club instead of the 'erotic adventure' claimed by all the PR crap. Not to mention a major money maker for the McCoy Family and Bones' usual weekend haunt. It didn't surprise him when Bones' second-in-command, Hikaru Sulu, met them at the front door.

Pavel clapped his hands in delight, then abandoned Jim's shoulder. He could almost see the twist of a ring on a tiny finger, then wings vanished and the small bright figure turned into a handsome young man who looked perfect with Sulu. Jim knew the two of them were talking about bonding. While Jim had come here to have the love of his life tell him it was over. Gods, his life sucked.

Jim nodded toward the depths of the club. "He inside?"

Sulu nodded, but caught hold of Jim's arm before he could go further inside. "You need to leave, Jim."

Nausea twisted his stomach. "He banning me from the premises?" One way to tell his worthless fuck toy to get lost, but he'd always figured better of Bones.

"Of course not, but it's not safe."

Pavel sighed. "And again we are not ready for Wampire trouble."

Jim agreed especially given the hungry looks the Vamps moving past them sent his way. He'd always gotten them, but they'd never been so blatant about it before. "What the hell is going on, Sulu?"

Sulu flushed slightly. "He's been… I mean …. Three weeks."

"Yeah, I know. He's gone for variety meals. So how is that anyone's business but mine and the cheating bastard's?"

A flinch this time. "Gods, Jim, you can't think he wanted this? Horatio ordered it. Said your fight with Kang made your … disability too obvious."

"But we won that fight!" Pavel protested, but Jim got it. He'd literally survived because of luck. Not skill or power. In a word, Jim was weak and Horatio McCoy valued nothing more than strength.

Jim had heard Bones spin a couple different tales about why he wouldn't bond with Jim, but pure and simple, Jim was a low-powered embarrassment of a Witch, who could offer nothing to the McCoy House. So the Old Vampire had forbidden anything more than an enthrallment – which could be done to anyone with consent, but would leave Jim without much of his mind and none of his free will left. Not something either of them wanted.  
But, hey, good news – Bones wasn't done with him. He'd simply been ordered not to be faithful to him any more. Well, fuck that. Gritting his teeth he took a step toward the inner door, but Sulu's grip tightened.

"Damnit, Jim," he hissed – and one of these days Jim was so going to get his name changed to Damnit Jim Kirk – "you've lost his protection." He said it in a way that implied Jim, along with anyone with two active brain cells, should have already known this and why the hell had he come here? And yeah, he should have, but he'd been too deep in self-pity to think beyond 'Bones doesn't love me anymore.'

Pavel paled and grabbed Jim's other arm. "Yes, we must go. Quickly."

What? Oh, yeah. If he didn't belong exclusively to Bones, Jim became another item on the Vampire all-you-can-eat buffet and he'd get torn apart in the feeding frenzy. Not because he was hot or tasty, but because there was some twisted prestige in getting Bones' discards. He almost gave in and left, but -- "No," he snapped jerking free. "Only chance I have is to deal with this here. Tonight." Otherwise his show of fear would turn him from a target of opportunity into actively hunted prey. He wouldn't last a day.

For a moment his friends looked like they might argue with him, then defeat settled on their faces. "Yes," Pavel sighed. "You are right."

Sulu looked unhappy, but nodded, then to Jim's dismay, the two of them took up positions on either side of him. What? "Hey, guys, I appreciate the thought, but if you help me fight, it won't settle anything."

"Yes, we know this," Pavel assured him.

"But if I claim you, no one else will touch you," Sulu said.

"It will not be so bad," Pavel assured him. "We three will snuggle in public, then you can go to Leonard in private."

And yes, it would work. He would be safe, and he could have Bones. But his stomach twisted. "Except Sulu would have to feed off me. In public."

They both looked resigned. "It's better than seeing you killed," Sulu said.

"Yes, it is well worth the price," Pavel insisted.

No, it wasn't. Jim didn't want to die, but no. The lengths they'd all have to go to would eventually destroy their relationship, and he'd have no part in that. "No."

Sulu's face hardened. "You that anxious to die, Kirk?"

Not really, but he imagined he'd get there quick enough. "If I don't fight … if I let one of them claim me, I'll … survive."

Pavel looked stricken. "Oh, no, do not do this. You and Leonard-"

"Were never meant to be, Pav." His throat felt tight and if he didn't throw up in the middle of this … "I should have known better." Spending the rest of his hopefully short life getting passed around from one Vamp to another sort of served him right for not figuring that out from the very first.

He kissed them both on the cheek, then said, "Take care of yourselves." He gave them a smile, then walked inside.

Joint was jumping tonight, but it always was. The rich and famous of all species came here to play. Well, more often watch, but the sense of naughty anticipation electrified the room making even ordering a drink a sensual experience. Speaking of which. Jim made his way over to the dark polished-oak bar then took up his usual pose – one foot on the gold plated bottom rail while leaning on his elbows against the glossy finish of the counter. He opened his mouth to order a shot of his favorite tequila, but a hand landed on his back, then shoved him forward. Gods, couldn't they have let him have one fucking drink before this started?

"Get away from him!" a much-loved voice ordered, and fuck, what was Bones doing? He knew the rules, and he'd clearly—

"You forfeited your claim on this one, McCoy," snarled a voice that must belong to the meaty paw holding Jim down.

"You're not a member of my House, Mitchell, but you are a guest in one of our holdings. I suggest you withdraw before your behavior is deemed insulting." A serious threat, one that no Vampire of any competing House would ignore, except –

Mitchell laughed. "Everyone knows you're going against Horatio's orders. That voids all House protection."

Yeah, and Jim would bet everyone knew because the old vampire had made certain of it. He wanted to tell Bones to walk away, but the pressure on his back wouldn't let him get enough air to do it.

"I'll say this one more time. Let. Him. Go."

Jim managed to tilt his head enough to see the bar mirror. The crowd was shifting, moving to form around their little drama. Bones had the build of an athlete and had been trained to serve in more than one Human war. So no way any one Vampire in this room could take him, but Jim could see the excitement building on several faces – a chance to take down a traitor to the head of the most powerful Vampire House in the country could lead to great reward, although Jim doubted that Horatio had really intended for things to go this far. Old bastard seemed to love Bones and would probably see anyone who hurt him dead, but that didn't help him now.

He could see Sulu and a few others trying to move through the crowd to reach Bones, but not enough to make a difference if this turned into the riot Jim expected. A flickering light flashed toward Jim. "I make him sneeze, you do something," Pavel shouted, then sent a stream of pixy dust flying.

Gonna die. Sulu, Pavel, Bones, oh, Gods, Bones. No way they could survive this. All because of Jim. He had to do something. Had to –

Mitchell sneezed violently and released Jim. Bones decked the other Vampire even as Jim whirled up and around. One threat down, but others were closing in and … something hot and electric swelled up inside Jim. Neither incantations nor thought beyond the need to keep his lover safe spurred it, but power surged through him, then out his hands. The half dozen Vampires he'd identified as a threat went flying upward to slam with impressive force against the ceiling, then fell with dull thuds to the floor.

The white shimmer of ley line magic pulsed around Jim's clenched fists and he glared with fury at a swarm of stunned faces. "Anyone else?"

No one moved for a moment, then the crowd dispersed, everyone going back to general clubbing stuff. Fuck, he needed a drink. Satisfied with the retreat, he decided to hell with it and turned back to the bar only to find himself once again shoved down against the counter. But the only one close enough had been --

"Don't fucking move," Bones growled in his ear a moment before strong hands shifted to his front, then ripped open his shirt. Buttons went flying, and another tug yanked his jeans down to mid-thigh, leaving him bare-assed in front of a room of people all swiftly turning their attention back to the bar. Part of him wanted to tell Bones to fuck off, but he understood. Bones needed to shout 'alpha male here' fast, and what could be quicker than fucking the guy who'd stopped a Vampire riot?

Jim muttered a quick incantation – one of the few that had always worked for him – and watched in the mirror as Bones shifted, then shoved his cock deep into Jim's body. The spell made the entry easy and painless, but he grunted at the force of the thrust. Over and over again Bones pounded into him, his hands gripping Jim's hips with the same bruising force. Jim's head dropped, because he knew if he kept watching, he'd come, and instinct told him to wait until he got permission.

All sound stopped beyond the beat of the music and a keening moan Jim couldn't begin to silence, while the huge room grew heavy with pheromones. He risked a glance in the mirror and saw dozens of people eying him with desire while caressing one another. Then he caught sight of Bones' face. Intent, possessive, beautiful, dangerous – he whimpered in warning, shaking with the effort to hold his body in check.

"Come," Bones hissed loudly. Release shuddered through their bodies, then Jim slumped, his muscles and consciousness dissolving into a sated warm darkness.

*

Must be nice. Leonard kept himself aware and his muscles coiled, a dangerous predator, ready to defend his mate. His point made, he pulled out of Jim, set his own leather trousers to rights, then pulled his lover up over one shoulder. He gave the bare ass a pat, then made his way across the room in a slow prowl calculated to take long enough for his seed to begin to seep from Jim's ass. A murmur of appreciation filled the room as the crowd parted to let him through to the doorway leading to his personal suite.

He laid Jim down on the bed, then poured himself a drink. He was halfway through a second when Jim finally stirred enough to manage, "Bones?"

"Right here," he murmured settling next to the sprawling Witch.

Jim shifted around to curl up close, and Leonard ran his fingers slowly through Jim's hair. A sound much like the purring of a contented cat rewarded him, and Leonard smiled. "You put on quite a show, darlin'."

Jim didn't pretend to misunderstand. "Don't know where the juice came from. Just saw you in danger and it was there. I don't get it. How could I get to 25 and not know I was a Ley Line Witch?"

Like his daddy. Which made sense. Jim looked so much like George it had never made sense for the magic to come from his mother's genetics. Although Jim managed to have a touch of earth magic, too. Been using it for years while his true magic stayed dormant. A fifty-year-old masters in psychology suggested a few things about that.

He approached it carefully. "I could have torn you apart with the dominance display."

Jim tilted his head back to give him a smile. "Nah, I know enough sex magic to keep you from wallowing in guilt until the turn of the next century."

"You do that any time a lover gets rough with you?"

"Yeah," Jim answered slowly, alarm creeping into his voice, "but you know there hasn't been anyone else since we met."

Leonard snorted. His Family practically owned Atlanta. Nothing happened to anyone who'd caught his interest without him knowing about it – whether he wanted to or not. "Not the point."

"Then what is?"

"Spell ever give you any trouble?"

"No."

"Anything else you can say the same about?"

Jim's frown deepened. "No."

"Really? You seemed pretty comfortable with the don't-notice spell on the plane."

He shifted away and sat up. "Okay so that one, too. Never said I didn't like sex."

"Never used it outside of sex?"

"Tried, doesn't work." He glared at Leonard. "Guess I'm just a slut with a one-track mind when it comes to motivation."

"No."

"No?"

"No, you're not a slut. And no, that's not your motivation."

"It isn't?"

Leonard shook his head. "I'll bet you the lease on this club it's happened in non-sexual situations."

The glare increased. "I just told you it hasn't."

"Jim, haven't you ever wondered how your uncle got away with beating you for so many years without anyone noticing?" He chose the world 'noticing' deliberately. "And that it took a Witch of Chris' power to finally catch him?"

Fury flashed in his eyes, but then Jim seemed to catch himself and consider the question. "You think I was running the spell without knowing it?"

Yeah, and there was a reason it finally went full power when Leonard's life was threatened. "Darlin', your magic protects anyone you fear will reject you." It had even protected Jim's uncle with the same misguided determination displayed by so many abused children. But it never worked against Jim's most hated enemy – himself.

Leonard didn't say it. He didn't have to. Jim was a genius after all.

He shook his head and chuckled the sort of low, mournful laugh that warded off tears. "Gods, I'm fucked up."

"Yeah, darlin', you are," he said, caressing Jim's face, "but no more than I am."

Jim gave his head a shake like he was trying to ride out the whiplash of things shifting so suddenly from his faults to Leonard's. "What?"

"If I'd bonded with you before your power manifested, Horatio would have had you killed. We both know that."

Jim nodded.

"But that's not the only reason I've avoided it." He sighed. "Truth is I'm fucking terrified about how much I love you."

He'd told Jim about his past – playing the part of a simple country doctor in pre-Civil War Georgia. Married his childhood sweetheart before they hit their majority as Vampires so they hadn't bonded before he lost her. "Almost killed me when I lost Jocelyn," he said, "but much as I loved her, what I feel for you. …" The thought made him shudder.

Jim got out of bed then pulled on his jeans. "So I'm trying to commit suicide by repressing my magic and you're too worried about Separation Sickness for us to be together." He shook his head, his eyes growing bright with tears. "Pretty fancy theory, Bones. Maybe the simpler answer is we don't belong together."

"No, darlin', please don't say we aren't right for each other."

Another one of those awful laughs. "Yeah, right. Who else would put up with us? Hell of a reason to spend a life together."

"Jim-"

"No," he held up a hand. "I need a few minutes to think and I can't do it when you're so close."

Leonard would have offered to leave, but Jim was already heading for the door that led up to the roof. He watched him go, thankful he'd chosen a refuge that would force Jim to return to Leonard before he could disappear out of his life.

*

A soft breeze greeted Jim when he walked out onto the roof. Helped cool his skin even if it left his fevered thoughts untouched. Three years. Three fucking years they'd hurt each other while doing everything they could to avoid admitting what they'd both known from the moment Bones had growled, "I may throw up on you."

"Jim, you are all right?"

Man-sized once more and smelling like Sulu and sex, Pavel joined him.

"Shouldn't you be inside warming up for round two?"

"Four. Wampire stamina is a wonderful thing."

He couldn't help snickering because he'd thought the same thing more than once. "Pav?"

"Yes?"

"I'm a Ley Line Witch. Like my dad."

"Yes, I saw. And Momma always said so. She said no one who cooks as badly as you could possibly master earth magic."

He smiled. "Momma Chekov always knows best."

"Yes, 'is very true. And if you forget, she is a master with her wooden spoon."

That made him laugh. "You're a good friend, Pav."

"The best. You feel better now?"

"Yeah, you broke the mood, but I'm still pretty fucked up."

"Yes, but you have many who love you and will help. It is what friends are for, yes?"

He nodded.

"And family?"

He nodded again.

"And he who is as my Hikaru is to me, yes?"

Jim sighed. "It's complicated."

"Hmm, yes, these things often are, but what is the Human saying? Love conquers all."

It couldn't be that easy, then he thought of his foster parents. He knew Chris and One fought like they loved – loud and with all they had. But they faced everything together, even when they were the problem. "Maybe it doesn't conquer everything." Jim sighed. "But it might be nice to have someone to stand with when all the shit hits the fan."

"Is what I said. Is old Pixy saying. Much smarter than Human clichés."

Jim laughed again. "Go play with your Vampire."

"You will do the same?"

"I think we might be ready to move beyond the playing, Pav."

"Good," Pavel gave him a pat on the back, frowned, then hugged him instead. "I am happy for you. Now, we should both go. Wampire stamina is good, but they are not so well known for patience."

*

Leonard stood at the window staring out at the glittering lights of Atlanta's skyline. It was killing him to not go to Jim, but at least they could share the same view. After what seemed like hours, but he knew was mere minutes, the door opened. He wanted to turn around, but couldn't make himself do it. Couldn't risk seeing rejection on Jim's beautiful face.

"Gods, we are a pair, Bones," Jim said, and hoped flared as he refused to believe Jim would use that ridiculous nickname to launch into a goodbye.

Arms slipped around him sending a shudder of relief through his body while Jim rested his chin over Leonard's shoulder. "I guess, the way I see it is, we've got our problems, but well, we aren't right for anyone else."

He smiled. "No, we aren't."

"And then there's all this love shit we've got going for us."

Okay, that was it. Carefully he turned, then lifted Jim up into his arms. He never loved his strength more than when it let him so completely and effortlessly hold this precious man. "You ready for this?"

"Nah, and neither are you, but let's do it anyway."

Leonard set him on the bed, then they helped each other undress. He kissed Jim, a slow, gentle touch of their lips, even as he let his fangs extend. He brushed the sharp tips lightly along Jim's jaw, a last subtle warning to get the hell out of here or forever hold his peace.

Jim tilted his head away from him, baring his neck, the throb of his vein music to Leonard's ears.

He glanced to the bedside drawer holding the usual supplies, but … "Think you can manage that spell when I'm not about to rip you in two?"

Jim concentrated for a moment, whispered a few words, then smirked. "Go for it."

"Such a sweet talker." He took a gentle breath to center himself, then with the twist of his hips and a slight turn of the jaw, he entered Jim's body. Warm, snug heat gripped his cock, while the flow of blood caressed his fangs. He gave his hips a chance to settle into a slow rhythm then began to draw Jim's blood through one fang while sending his own blood into Jim's artery with the other. Warm and lazy like a summer day spent fishing, once, twice, three times, he let their blood flow completely through both their bodies. Body. Mind. Spirit. Life's blood to life's blood until nothing remained separate from the other.

He withdrew his fangs, licked the small wounds closed, then sighed through a gentle, mutual release. In that moment he looked into Jim's eyes and saw love, power, and a free spirit who would often drive him mad with both laughter and tears. But most of all he saw a near eternity together. Forever. As it had always been meant to be.

end

**Author's Note:**

> This story was written for prompt #6 of the Ship Wars. The challenge had an overall prompt of _Love_ and a team specific prompt of this quote from _The Cutting Edge: "Don't say we aren't right for each other, the way I see it is … we aren't right for anyone else."_
> 
> Due to challenge word count limitations, I was not able to do the story I really wanted to tell. So this is not part 1 of a longer story. Rather it is a completed alternate version. I hope to tell the more elaborate tale. Time and muse willing.


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